The Ripple Effect
by Vanille Strawberry
Summary: Olympic champions aren't born champions. They're raised that way. Brittana. Oneshot.


Mia's eighteen. Eighteen, and in her head she houses the roaring of a crowd and the roaring of the blood rushing through her veins reminding her that she's alive. The sound of it is intoxicating. It's like hearing the crescendo in a song, like a guitar solo in a silent auditorium, like a flock of birds scattering up into a crimson painted sky, or the sound of April showers, sweet and wondrous. Her heartbeat pounds furiously against a pale chest, encompassed by a constricting bodysuit – a tiny American flag poised over the organ. She lets it wash over her, feels a part of her tremble in recognition.

They told her not to get caught up in the magnitude of what she would hear and feel. They wanted her to wear headphones, listen to a track that would drown out the cacophony of the audience and the press waiting in bathed breath. Mia's glad she didn't.

Her eyes are dark, hooded and focused. Jaw set. Her legs remain strong and steadfast; as the adrenaline begins to pump; as the roaring gets louder; as the opponent to her right raises her arm in salute and they call "Alexandra Jimanez of Spain in lane 3!"

* * *

_Mia's four and staring at this huge body of water with wide teary brown eyes, wondering what on earth her mothers' are thinking. It smells weird and everyone is wearing a scratchy hat and small underwater sunglasses like she is. Her mommy says that it's to protect her eyes from the Clo-reen and that she has to wear them. No excuses, Bug, Mommy had said in the changing rooms. They're really annoying though. She tugs at them and whines when they snap back._

_Ma is treading water in front of her and trying to entice her to slip into the pool. Mia stubbornly sits on the edge and bites her lip as she hears other kids her age shriek when their bodies are submerged and their parents try in vain to soothe them. Her glare then focuses directly on the deadly water before her._

"_C'mon, honey," Ma urges. "Come in with me. I bet you'll like it!"_

"_No," Mia says in a clipped tone. _

"_Don't you want to show Mommy what a big girl you are?" Her mother points up to her Mommy sitting in the stands with the other mothers, balancing a book on her wide belly where Mia's little brother or sister is living. Mommy glances up and smiles widely at her, blowing her kisses and waving excitedly._

"_Hi, baby!" she calls out. "Are you going to get in the water with Ma?"_

_Mia cocks her head at her Mommy in confusion and slight irritation (In that same way you do, San, Brittany will later tell her wife) and wonders why everyone is so hell bent on her getting into the pool. She doesn't like how big it is or how loud everyone is being. She's just hoping that her Ma will give up on this like she gave up on trying to fix her doll house, and take her and Mommy to get ice-cream._

"_Mia," Ma groans. "It's just like your bath at home. I'll hold you at first if you want."_

"_If I do will you let me get ice-cream after?" she says tentatively, wrinkling her nose as her toes finally touch the freezing water._

_Her Ma frowns at her a little. "Are you bargaining with me?" she asks a little disbelievingly._

_Mia doesn't know what the word means and shrugs her shoulders. "Is it working?"_

_There's a beat of silence before her Ma giggles and shakes her head, shoulders trembling with laughter, gesturing for Mia to just slip into the pool already. "Alright, Bug. I'll bite. You get into the pool and I'll bring you to get ice-cream."_

_Mia sighs and inches her butt closer to the edge. For a moment she stares at the water. She and the water are having a staring contest. _

_The water is winning. _

_But then she reminds herself of the reward (two scoops of chocolate ice-cream with sprinkles) and closes her eyes tightly before sliding in. _

_At the initial entry she panics. The sensation of being immersed is new and foreign and scary. She flounders for a hold and is beyond relieved when her Ma catches her under the armpits and brings her in close, shushing her gently._

"_That was really brave, Mia."_

"_Don't let go!" she whimpers into her Ma's neck, clutching for dear life._

_Ma presses a kiss to her temple, soothing and warm. "I'll never let go."_

* * *

"Mia Lopez of the United States in lane 4!"

Mia smiles; wide and trusting and truly happy. Wide like she did that summer when she was four and her Ma helped wipe the chlorine from her red rimmed but twinkling eyes when the goggles slipped. She raises a hand and waves at the crowd, lowering it to form a heart with the other over the tiny but precious flag on her suit. The cameraman shuffles close and she kisses at it, her lips forming a happy but trembling "I love you", her hands shaking the shape until it becomes an oblong.

The presenter moves on. Mia shakes her muscles, slaps her chest, hops in place and adjusts the push offs on her starting block. She chants "go go go go go go go" on a loop, a timeless loop that has always been present, like white noise, foggy but insistent. Like an old Rachel Berry CD, telling her to reach for the stars. Like the words of love and encouragements that have never wavered from her parents lips.

* * *

_Mia runs into the kitchen just as Mommy is stuffing a towel into her swimming bag. Ma is on the phone to the coach of the swimming club, jotting down times on a sticky note and scrunching her nose when the baby in her arms starts to chew on her hair. Mommy notices and laughs, hoisting Mia's little brother Michael (even though everyone calls him Mica) into her arms with a grunt. He's getting big now and Mia scrambles on a chair to be level with Mica as Mommy settles him in his high chair, smoothing his thin jet black hair fondly and kissing his forehead. She does the same to Mia and then to Ma, who smiles as she keeps talking into the phone. Mommy's kisses are the best kisses._

"_Alright, mi familia," Ma exclaims, putting the house phone back in its cradle on the kitchen counter and ruffling Mia's hair. "Mia is on her way to becoming the next Missy Franklin."_

_Mommy hits Ma's shoulder with a laugh and Mia giggles behind her cupped palms. "Don't be putting pressure on her, Santana."_

"_Pressure?" Ma's eyes enlarge, looking scandalized. "Why, my dear wife, you insult me so!"_

_Mommy grins widely, mopping up Mica's baby drool and arching an eyebrow at Ma. Mia likes this. She likes the look Mommy gives Ma when Ma says something grown-up funny and how they lean in together and brush lips lovingly, sighing and smiling into it. It makes Mia feel happy too._

_Ma pulls away to nuzzle at Mommy's cheek before moving out of the kitchen to find the car keys, leaving a happy Mommy to shoulder Mia's swimming bag and gather up everyone inside the car. Mia straps herself in because she can now, she's a big girl, and watches with fascination as Ma buckles Mica into his car seat, the one that used to belong to her._

"_Can we play my CD?" Mia asks when they're pulling out of their driveway and passing little landmarks she knows like the pet shop, the grocery store and the park._

_Mommy takes one hand off the wheel and flicks the radio on, throwing a sheepish smile at Ma when she groans good-naturedly. Mia begins to sing (wail) the lyrics of Rachel Berry's new album happily, huffing indignantly when Mica joins in with his baby babble. She crosses her arms and pouts, her glare becoming even more pronounced when Ma tells her to be nice to her brother._

"_Did we ever tell you that we used to be friends with Rachel Berry?" Mommy says, eyeing her through the rear view mirror and smiling._

_All irritation towards her sibling vanishes at the admission. She _loves_ Rachel Berry. She's seen all her movies, has all her posters and albums and for Christmas she's asking Santa to bring her Rachel's new book. _

"_REALLY? She screeches, almost making Mommy swerve on the road with the sudden shrillness of it._

_Ma winces, wiggling a finger in her right ear. "I think she burst my eardrum, Britt."_

_Mommy ignores Ma, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! We used to sing with her in Glee Club. Didn't we ever tell you?" She glances at Ma with a puzzled frown. "Why did we never tell our Rachel obsessed daughter we were friends with her idol?"_

"_OHMYGAWD, CAN SHE COME OVER FOR DINNER?!"_

"_That's why," Ma sighs heavily, but Mia's far too gone to care. Her little mind is jumping with fantasies of the Rachel Berry sweeping her into the glitz and glamour of Broadway and maybe even being able to play against her on her new Sing! Party! Broadway Starlet Rachel Berry addition, game._

"_Hagaaaa!" Mica blurts, smacking one of his many toy dinosaurs at the back of Ma's head._

"_OW! Mica, what the hell?" Ma rubs the injured spot as she turns to regard her giggling son, wounded and annoyed. _

_Mommy wrinkles her nose to stop from laughing. "You had it coming for making fun of Sting Ray."_

"_Sting Ray?" Ma asks._

"_Sting Ray?" Mia echoes, arching her eyebrow like her Ma at her mother._

_Mommy nods, turning on the indicator to that they can swerve classily into the pool's car park. Driving skills, yo. "Our bug's not a bug anymore. She's totally a Sting Ray."_

"_Guggggga!" Mica adds._

"_Right on, little man!"_

_Mia and Ma just look at each other._

* * *

The presentations have been made. Everyone is here and accounted for and rearing to go. They thump, they stretch, they grunt. They are the fastest women in the world, as of today. Mia feels a spike of hot white angry fear snake into her blood paralysing her when she realizes the enormousness of what she's about to do. She looks up at the giant screen and sees her face, freckled yet determined, staring back. She looks to her right, up above the press box, and catches a glimpse of Mommy wearing the US flag like a cape, Ma at her side looking she can't quite believe where she is.

Mia breathes.

She can do this.

The beeper sounds. Like well-oiled machines they clamber up onto the starting blocks – like preprogrammed robots awaiting the first command from some unknown source. Mia feels the tension coil tight in her gut, a fire in her belly, a thought that hasn't formed yet but is on the tip of her tongue. She hears Coach Baker's voice telling her to keep her mind and ears open. She hears her mothers' telling her they'll be proud of her, whatever happens.

"_LAP HER, MIA!" Coach Baker barks._

_Ten year old Mia grits her teeth under the water and looks up slightly from her vigil of the dark line at the bottom of the pool. April in front of her is struggling to keep pace, her body thrashing instead of rotating with that practised ease she usually has and that Mia always tries to emulate. With a small up-tempo kick and a faster stroke, Mia swims around the struggling swimmer and finishes the 100, realizing that she will now be leading the lane for the first time in her life._

_Coach Baker lets the small group of twelve or so eleven year olds sip at their water bottles and recover from the gruelling 5x100's at 80% power. Mia pushes her swimming goggles up and away from her face, sipping at the Hello Kitty bottle her Mommy got her last winter, feeling the muscles in her back straining with that last effort. The sound of chatter, heavy breathing and the radio buzzing through the speakers at the end of the pool are the only sounds permeating through Mia's waterlogged ears._

_A hush descends when Coach Baker moves from her bench, swim bible in hand, towards the whiteboard where she writes the following;_

_4x50 fly 50 secs._

_People groan. Some complain. Mia smiles; her PB is 47sec._

"_In the water starts," Coach Baker says slowly and evenly, her eyes which are framed by thick black glasses passing over her charges with little emotion. The woman is an impassive wall. Mia has never seen her smile._

"_Do we get a recovery time?" Billy asks from lane three._

"_15 seconds," Coach Baker replies instantly, fiddling with her stopwatch._

_Some protests drift up from the breaststrokers and backcrawlers. Coach Baker glares coldly at them all. "10 seconds," she says. "Keep talking if you want me to lower it again."_

_That shuts everyone up. Mia slips her goggles back on and kicks off the wall at the whistle. She likes the fly. A master of her own body thanks to vigorous dance lessons with her Mommy, Mia knows exactly how to get it to cut cleanly through the water; how to keep her hips close to the surface; how to rotate her shoulders to get that fabulous hand entry the other coaches salivate over._

_After the set everyone's exhausted. Mia is fresher than she'd expected to be and hauls herself out of the pool with a small grateful smile to April when the tiny black haired girl hands her the Hello Kitty water bottle._

"_You were really good today," April murmurs shyly before running off for the changing rooms, leaving Mia to smile bashfully at her retreating figure._

"_Lopez."_

_Mia looks up, her arms full with her fins and buoy. Coach Baker walks towards her, her swim bible tucked under a small wiry arm, looking like she wants to bite her head off._

"_C-coach?"_

"_Tell your parents I'll be onto them this evening. I have things to discuss."_

_Mia pales but nods in affirmation. She tries to think back to what she could have done wrong, how she could have angered Coach Baker in the past few weeks. She thought she'd been doing well, had made every training session early, had signed up for land training and started eating healthily like her Momma._

_She marches into the changing rooms and right under the spray of a shower trying not to cry. She doesn't want Coach Baker to say anything to Ma. She was so proud of her achievements, had made so many sacrifices to make sure she had the best equipment, made every team bonding event and was always picked up on time. _

_April hands her shampoo over with a tiny smile, seeing the anguish on Mia's face. Mia smiles back at her in thanks, grinning at the smell of the shampoo as she lathers it into her hair. Strawberries; her favourite._

* * *

"On your marks" is the drone that has her muscles clenching in anticipation. THIS IS IT THIS IS IT THIS IS IT THIS IS IT THIS IS IT.

It feels like the world is at a standstill. Mia imagines people in busy train stations pausing mid-step, of volcanoes freezing as they erupt, free-fallers hanging in the atmosphere. She imagines New York City, Beijing, Sydney and London falling silent. Car horns and fire alarms and singers in Broadway musicals muting for a single fragile moment.

Beep.

Mia springs. She's airborne. The closest thing to flying she will ever come to. The sweet relief of leaving land doesn't fully settle, and then she's in it.

Her home.

The water.

Her body is submerged and power prickles, drips from her fingertips, as her entire being rejoices in the union. The place she never wants to leave.

* * *

_She's the last one dressed. She trudges out to the foyer of the swimming pool as everyone's leaving, waving goodbye to her friends. April dashes out into the rain and hops into her father's car, kissing his rough cheek and waving through the window as Mia waves back tentatively, sighing when her Ma's car rolls up outside._

"_Hey there, Sting Ray. How was practice?"_

"_Fine."_

_Ma cocks an eyebrow at her but doesn't push for more. She nods to herself a little and drives out of the parking lot and home._

_Once there, Mia dumps her swim bag at the foot of the stairs and stomps into her room, ignoring Mommy's greeting and Ma's exasperated call for her to come take care of her swim stuff and that "It's not going to do itself you know!" _

_She collapses into her pillow and grabs the teddy polar bear her Abuela got her from the zoo in New York. His name is Mitch and he's been through everything with her; from the chicken pox to stormy nights. She cuddles closely into his fur and breathes him in. He smells like April's shampoo._

"_Ma wants to know why you're all crabby," Mica says from the open doorway, thumbs a flurry as he plays on some digital contraption or other._

"_Go away!" she groans into Mitch._

"_Mommy! Mia told me to go away!"_

_Mia sits up and hurls her pillow at him, hitting him squarely in the face. He throws it back at her, sticking his tongue out and taking off, calling out to their mothers. Mia counts to ten before Mommy is standing at the doorway with a concerned look on her face and a basket of laundry in her hands._

"_What's wrong, Sting Ray? You look blue."_

_Mia scrunches her nose unhappily and mutters, "Coach Baker is going to call you tonight."_

"_Why? You in trouble?" Mica drawls, squeezing his head between his mother's hip and the doorframe._

"_No! Get out of here, Nerd!"_

"_Hey, hey." Mommy frowns. "Don't call your brother a nerd. Now, why is Ms. Baker calling? Did you smack Billy for stealing your towel again?"_

"_I dunno," she says mildly. "I haven't done anything bad, Mom. She just told me she was calling you …"_

"_Alright then," Mommy says with a nod. "Then we'll wait for her call. Now go and sort out your swim bag before Ma blows a gasket. And be nice to your brother." With that she disappears down the hallway with the basket, Mica at her heels._

_Mia lets out an exasperated sigh and tucks Mitch under her pillow._

* * *

The first pull and drag of her arm through the water is the one that tastes like invincibility. The next four too. It's the fifth one that summons all the doubts. All the fourth place days, the fractions of seconds that meant she never qualified for championships, the stinging of muscles and tears. The fifth stroke is the stroke that either makes or breaks her.

Can she do this? Why is she doing this? She can't compete at this level. She's not on par with these girls. Who is she kidding?

She grits her teeth, lungs beginning to ache a little – a dull throb as she water rushes past her ears and she blows a stream with her nose. She hasn't taken a breath yet. Probably won't either, not until she hits that wall. If she ever reaches it that is …

* * *

_When Coach Baker calls, the Lopez family is seated around the dinner table. Ma gets up to answer the phone and Mia sinks into her seat, finding her bowl of soup extremely interesting. Mica and Mommy share a look over her head but keep their peace, straining to hear what Ma is saying in the hallway._

_They can catch odd words like "timetable" and "upset" and Mommy holds Mia's hand when she begins to cry silently. Coach Baker's going to get rid of her. They're going to fit her on some other team and she'll never progress, never get to see her friends again. What will April say when she doesn't show up to practice tomorrow? What will Coach Baker say to the team? Will she give them a play-by-play account of all her mistakes as a warning?_

_Ma reappears, phone in hand and note pad in the other. She shoots Mommy a look that Mia doesn't recognise in her panic. _

"_So?" she squeaks._

"_Coach Baker is bumping you, April and Billy up to be under her personal training regime. Congratulations, Sting Ray!"_

_For the first time that evening, Mia lets herself breathe._

* * *

She wants to risk that breath but is afraid of jeopardizing her race. She can see the two girls at her sides close, too close, and powers through the pain she feels in her arms and lungs and mind, chasing the doubts to keep ahead of them. The sting of it is invigorating though. It makes her aware that she's really here, really swimming with her idols and cutting through the water like she was born to.

She can feel the crowd with her, chanting her name, pushing her on. Their cries are like horns of war celebrating and pre-empting the victory of their soldier. She will not fail them.

She will not fail _her_.

* * *

_The long day is finally over. The last gruelling two hours are but a distant memory and a sixteen year old Mia heaves herself bodily from the water, steam rising from her suit and hair loose across her shoulders. She doesn't notice the gaze set on her as she stands by her block and ruffles her hair with a towel, idly placing things in her gear bag. She doesn't notice April waving Billy's ushering hand away, in favour of sitting on her block to stare at Mia._

_Coach Baker wishes them a good evening, snapping her training book closed, reminding Billy and the new recruit Joshua to have their target sheets on her desk by noon tomorrow as she leaves and the boys trudge to their changing rooms. April lingers at her own lane, packing her gear bag at a glacier pace, throwing sporadic glances up at Mia and flushing darkly when Mia smiles at her._

"_I'll start you shower for you," Mia offers, throwing her bag over one shoulder. _

"_Thanks," April says, a bright smile adorning her features. _

_In the changing rooms, Mia starts April's shower. She adjusts the temperature just like she knows April likes it best and decides, as steam begins to coil into the atmosphere, that putting the girl's shower products out would be extra nice and attentive of her._

_She goes into the changing room area to locker number 14 and turns the combo to form a 1-2-3-4 (she'll have to remind April to change that at some point). The latch clicks open and the hinges groan with the effort. Inside the door she's surprised to find a picture of herself, April and Billy with Coach Baker and Rebecca Adlington at a meet in London. _

_She remembers the excitement of meeting the old seasoned sports star, of gushing about her past triumphs and wondering why she bowed out when she did. Adlington had been lovely and patient with them, regaling them with Team GB's best and funniest moments and giving them tips on how to navigate the rest of their careers._

_Mia smiles fondly at the picture, and squirms a little when she notices the look she's giving April while everyone else is smiling for the photographer. _

_Her eyes are heavy but soft as she smiles at April, the other girl's cheeks rosy with glee and excitement. April's eyes are this brilliant hue of blue, like a sleepy Mediterranean sky. They ooze warmth and happiness and have the inane ability of making Mia feel like she can take on the world whenever they look at her. In the picture they're shining and it makes Mia's stomach flip and her heart squeeze in her chest. Her hair is midnight dark and beautiful as it cascades down her tanned shoulders. But it's her laugh and her intelligence and her big heart that made and still makes Mia fall in love with her._

_Before the picture was taken, Mia remembers April pressing her head close to hers so as not to be overhead, and whispering, "I'm getting a copy of this so you better smile that beautiful smile of yours, Ms. Lopez."_

_They kissed in their London hotel room for the first time that evening. April asked her to be her girlfriend the following morning, after waking up in each other's arms, exhausted from hours of talking and planning and weighing up options and reactions._

_Mia jumps when she feels April engulf her tight from behind, groaning as their bodies reconnect. _

"_Your shower is running," Mia reminds her through a giggle. "All the hot water will be gone, babe."_

"_Don't care," April grumbles against her skin, hugging her extra tightly. "Missed you."_

_Mia tangles a hand softly in her girlfriend's hair, kissing the girl's temple affectionately as April holds her close now, kissing the side of her face softly, reverently. "I missed you too," she whispers. "I was just getting your shower stuff."_

"_Got side tracked by the picture though." They both look at it, at the way Mia is gazing at April. "I do too sometimes. I love it."_

"_I love you," Mia says immediately._

_April closes her eyes and smiles, nuzzling the girl's cheek affectionately. "You know I love you too, Sting Ray."_

* * *

She sees the wall now. Her lungs are aching, craving the sweet relief of oxygen. But she won't breathe. She's going to hit that wall even if it takes her passing out to do so. She owes it to all the supporters, to Coach Baker, to April and her family.

With one last titanic effort Mia kicks harder, reaches farther and hits that wall with everything that's in her. It doesn't feel final enough though. So she turns to look at the board as she takes in that much needed painful gulp of air, confused for a moment by what she sees as she rips the goggles off.

And then the breath leaves her again, as MIA LOPEZ flashes above all the other names and she's suddenly screaming and punching the water and crying and crying some more and thanking anyone who will listen. The crowd roars in approval and she can only imagine what her mothers' are doing and how little Mica's celebrating all the way back home.

The other girls hug her, pleased to have lost to someone worthy. They are the fastest women in the world and today, she was crowned the fastest. She hauls herself out of the water they flock to her, congratulating her, wiping her tears. Mia keeps screaming deliriously, keeps crying into shoulder after shoulder because she's eighteen years old and now an Olympic gold medallist and nothing feels real.

That 50m felt like an amazing scary dream.

Some fresh faced reporter interviews her, though all she does is cry even harder when he informs her she's broken a new world record. She crumples to her knees at his feet, just sobbing and waving off assistance from the other girls and a medic. "She's fine, she's fine," one of the Australian girls laughs, helping her up. The reporter looks concerned but laughs nervously when she steadies herself and thanks her coach and all of America for believing in her.

She goes to change and answers a flurry of text messages from her family and friends and basks in their congratulatory smiley faces and exclamation points. She has a voice mail from her mothers' (just unintelligible crying) and one from April (more unintelligible crying) and one from Mica (at home with Abuela and Abuelo) and it makes Mia feel so powerful and strong it's unbelievable. She's done them proud.

For every sacrifice they have ever made in her honour; for every packed lunch; every drive across state borders for a meet; every temper tantrum; every goodnight kiss after a gruelling practice; every sly smile at the stoop when April drops her off … this is for them.

During the medal ceremony, after the national anthem and the pictures with the other two medal winners, Mia lets her eyes swing the length of the pool. She walks briskly away from the impromptu photo shoot and hops the fence separating the pool from the press area and then scales to the top of the platforms towards the stands where her mothers' sit beside her gorgeous and blubbering girlfriend.

No one stops her. They watch on with exhilarated cheers as she makes it to the top, hanging onto the railing precociously. Ma holds her head in her hands, crying unabashedly and repeating how proud she is.

"I'm _so_ proud, baby girl. So proud of you. You're so amazing, mi preciosa." Ma's face is pinched and blotchy and her make up runs as she holds Mia close and tells her everything she already knows.

Mommy kisses her forehead and her nose and her hair, making a fuss of her, crying just as faithfully as Ma. "You showed them what's what, honey. You showed them that the Lopez's kick ass!"

"I'm _so_ tired," she laughs absent mindedly, soaking in the praise and love, kissing their cheeks, holding them close, thanking them for their support all these years.

Then she turns to April who attaches herself to Mia's mouth, framing her face with her hands and refusing to let go. Her tongue probes deep and warm and Mia raises one hand to cup her girlfriend's jaw, changing the angle and feel of the kiss. When they break away it's to a flurry of cameras and to the sight of Mia's mothers' holding each other tight as they look at them, sly and loving.

"I love you so much," Mia pants.

April nods, shaking and crying. "I love you so much I can't breathe right now," she jokes tearfully. Mia chokes on her own laugh and smothers it with a sloppy kiss, pulling away to rest her forehead against April's as they inhale together.

"Miss! Miss could you please come down!"

Mia ducks her head to see a team of security personnel waving for her, talking into walky-talkies and looking wholly unimpressed. Mia regretfully places one last meaningful kiss to April's trembling lips, and smiles widely at her mothers', unfastening her gold medal and draping it across her Ma's neck. Where it rightfully belongs.

"Thank you for never letting go of my dream for me, guys."

"We were never going to, Sting Ray," Santana whispers as she watches Mia drop down to the pool deck, holding the gold medal out for Brittany and April to see and crying anew.

* * *

_Mia cries so hard that Coach Baker and April begin to blur. She can hear their words and their praises, but it's nothing she recognises. All she knows is that she lost that race, a race that should have been hers. She feels someone wrap her up in a fluffy blanket and rubs the tears away with a freckled forearm, un-blurring the sudden image of her mothers kneeling in front of her._

_"I didn't win," she sniffles at them._

_"We know," Mommy hushes quietly, pushing back Mia's knotted golden hair from her big stormy eyes._

_"We'll leave you to it," Coach Baker says with a regretful smile, the first smile Mia has ever seen her give. She takes a concerned looking April with her until the only people in the swimming pool foyer are Mia, her mothers and the receptionist tapping away on her computer by the front door._

_"Losing isn't so bad, Sting Ray," Ma says. She smiles a little. "You were wonderful."_

_Mommy nods. "Totally. Ma and I don't know much about swimming but you looked fierce out there, sweetheart. We were so proud of you."_

_Mia coughs out a little sigh and allows herself to believe them. Her Ma and Mommy never lie about important things, especially about feelings, about how they feel. "Not since High School," Mommy told her once, under a blanket-fort when Ma had to work late and Mica was tucked up in his crib dozing the evening away. "If you feel something, you've got to say it."_

_"You think I can be an amazing swimmer like Rebecca Adlington?" she whispers, heartbroken._

_"Who?" Ma says quizzically and grunts when Mommy's elbow lands sorely against her ribs. _

_"Of course you can, Sting Ray," Mommy says. "We know you can."_

_"Promise?"_

_"Promise."_


End file.
